To Love a Pirate
by Neseve Sedai
Summary: Why does Commodore Norrington hate pirates so much? This starts when James Norrington is still a common sailor in the Navy. He meets a woman who will change his life forever. NorringtonOC. Rating for sexual content in later chapter. FInally complete!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

James Norrington leaned over the railing of _Seaspray_ and breathed in the salty sea air. This was his first real assignment as a soldier in the Port Royal's Navy. He was only 22 and had just enlisted last year. He loved the sea. That was why he had known since he was a boy that he wanted to be part of the navy. It was his calling. He would defend Port Royal against all odds, maybe even become Commodore one day. Now, he along with the other crewmen on _Seaspray_, were to travel these waters searching for any threats to Port Royal. He thought it would probably be a simple matter. They hadn't seen any sign of life since they left the port four days ago.

His thoughts were interrupted when he saw something floating in the distance.

"What's that?" he asked Jonathan Blake anther low ranking soldier standing with him. He gestured to the floating object.

Blake shaded his eyes from the sun and squinted. "I don't know," he said slowly, "Piece of drift wood?"

James nodded his agreement and turned to peer off into the other direction. He whirled around when he heard Jonathan's shout. "It's a woman!"

It was. The wood she was sprawled out on had drifted closer, giving them a better view. She seemed to be unconscious. Immediately, James removed his coat and boots. It only took him a few seconds, and he was already in the water before any of the other men could move. When he came up for air the first time, a wave hit him in the face, causing him to choke on the salty sea water. He coughed and spluttered, but kept moving. He knew that if he wanted to reach the woman in time, he could not stop. He began to swim faster than he had ever swum in his life. After what seemed like an eternity, he reached the piece of wood that the woman was laying on. For a split second he was stunned by her beauty. Long red ringlets framed a delicate heart-shaped face with full pink lips. She had pale ivory skin. He shook his head and mentally berated himself for wasting time. He could marvel over her beauty later. Right now her life was at stake. And his. He gathered her into his arms and began kicking furiously back to the boat. It seemed miles away, and it might as well have been. He could feel his strength leaving him. The woman wasn't heavy by any means, but carrying her had taken what little strength he had left from the swim out to her. His kicks became more feeble. He looked at the unconscious woman with sorrow. It was a pity that she was so close to salvation, and he had to give out. He tried to kick harder, but it was no use. His strength was gone. A wave came over his head, and as he thrust her up to keep her from inhaling the water, he went under. Just when he thought that his life was over, he felt the young woman's weight lifted from his hands, and someone grabbed him. He looked up into Jonathan Blake's face as he was pulled into the lifeboat. Jonathan pushed him onto his back and pressed on his chest. He thought he coughed up more water than was in the whole sea.

He lay there for a moment in a daze, staring up at the blue sky, and just breathing. Air had never tasted so good. Then realization hit him. He bolted up from where he was laying in the small boat. Where was the woman? He saw her just as the thought came to him. She was sitting up coughing water out of her throat just as he had been a moment ago. She drew a shuddering deep breath and looked around.

"You're the British Navy?" she sounded a little scared. He wondered why. She also sounded dehydrated. He would have to get her some water when they got to the ship. Her accent was definitely Irish. He had never been to Ireland before, but he had met an Irishman once. What would an Irish woman be doing alone all the way out here.

"Yes," Jonathan answered her before James could open his mouth. He sounded proud. Then Jonathan turned to him. "This, milady, is your rescuer."

When she turned to look at him, his breath caught in his throat. She was even more beautiful than he had thought. Her large round eyes were a bright shade of green that he had never seen before. He hadn't noticed before that she was wearing men's clothing. The tight breeches and tunic showed off her body well. He berated himself for having the audacity to stare at her lovely curves. Her full lips curved up in a slow small smile. "Thank you," she said, even though her voice was a little raspy from thirst it still sounded like music, "For saving my life. May I ask your name?"

He gaped at her for a moment before returning her small. "James Norrington, milady. And yours?"

She hesitated for a moment, and bit her bottom lip. "Isobel," she said after a moment, "Isobel Smith. And please don't call me milady. I am nothing but a common woman."

James nodded. He wondered why she had hesitated about her name. What could she have to hide? He thought she might be lying about her name, her last name anyway. If she was she must be very nervous, everyone knew that Smith wasn't an Irish name. None of the other men made a move to accuse her of lying though, and he certainly wasn't going to.

"And what are you doing way out here in the middle of the ocean?" One of the other men asked. James thought his name was Nathaniel. He was a few years older than himself. The way he looked her up and down as he spoke made James's face heat up. Did the man have no manners?

Isobel just eyed him coolly until his eyes rested on her face. She gave him a look that said not to do that again. "I was on a ship headed for Port Royal. We were attacked by pirates. Someone hit me in the head, and that is all I remember."

"You are in luck," James said. When her eyes turned back to him they regained their warmth, "We are from Port Royal. I am sure we can have you there soon."

The other men looked at him, obviously surprised at him telling her something that only the captain could. They truly weren't supposed to be back in Port Royal for another ten days. She nodded and smiled at him again. "Thank you for you kindness."

By that time they had reached the ship. Someone threw down a rope ladder for them to climb up on. James rushed up beside Isobel so that he would be the man to hand her up. She smiled as she took his hand. Her hand was soft and felt strangely small in his. Was it just him or did she let it linger before letting go?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Isobel eagerly drank the water that James had given her. She watched the man out of the corner of her eye, causing her to spill some on her. She handed the water bottle back to him and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Thank you," she said after a moment, "I was so thirsty."

He shrugged and smiled. He was a very handsome man, she thought, with a nice smile. She liked him. It was too bad that he was one of her enemies. No, not him, the British Navy, but still he was part of them. "It was the least I could do," he said, "I am glad you are okay."

"I wouldn't be," she replied, resting a hand on his shoulder, "If it weren't for you. You saved me. That was very brave. Master Blake told me that you jumped into the water before anyone could stop you."

He looked down. "Really, it was my duty," he said shyly, "Any man would have done it."

She placed a finger under his chin and tipped it up to look at her. She made her smile warm. "But _you_ did. Please accept my thanks and don't try to make it as if you did nothing."

He nodded then his eyes drifted to her hands touching him. Realizing that she was probably making him uncomfortable she removed her hands and leaned out over the railing. She had always been the kind of person who needed to touch and hug people. Her father said she got it from her mother.

He came to stand beside her. Maybe she hadn't made him uncomfortable, for he was standing so close to her that their bodies pressed together and she could feel his breath on her skin. She turned her head and smile up at him. Her smile must have been a little more than friendly because she thought that she noticed a faint coloring in his cheeks. She thought that he must be older than her- she was only 19- but he didn't seem to have had much experience with woman. True, she didn't have much experience with men. Well, not much romantic experience anyway. She grew up with men, but in all her 19 years she hadn't become romantically involved with any of them. She thought James's shyness was adorable.

"You're from Ireland, aren't you?" his voice broke into her thoughts, "You said Irish."

"Yes," she said, no use lying about that. She had lied about her last name. Her real last name was Bryant. She was the youngest and favorite daughter of the now dead pirate, Patrick Bryant. If she had told them her real last name, someone might have made the connection and then there would be no denying what she was, _who _she was. A pirate. And then it would be off to the hangman's noose for her. Thinking of her father made her get teary-eyed. He had died a year ago, killed along with all of his crew but one by the infamous Captain Blackeye. The one surviving crewman, named Jon Harfor, had come to Isobel- her father had left her in Tortuga- and told her what had happened. Blackeye had come seeking the treasure that her father had found a month earlier. It was a huge treasure. Blackeye had murdered her father to get to the gold. Hatred and anger burned in Isobel's heart. She had sworn that very night to find Blackeye and avenge her father. That was why she was here, looking for him. The pirate ship that had attacked her had not been his. She had not recognized its sails. Luckily for her, the men who had come aboard dismissed her for some serving maid or whore instead of the ship's captain, and only knocked her out instead of killing her. She had been lucky, but she had still lost her ship, and a good ship it was! Now she was in the hands of the British Navy- as a guest, yes, and not a prisoner, but still- there was no way she would be able to get another ship soon. She felt like crying.

"What's wrong?" She hadn't even realized she _was_ crying until James tipped up her face and wiped a tear off her cheek. "Did I say something to upset you?"

Isobel shook her head and sniffed. What was wrong with her? Pirates didn't cry! "No, it's not you," she replied, "It's just thinking of home. It makes me a little sad." That wasn't a total lie.

"Oh." James placed a comforting hand on the small of her back. "I am sorry. I didn't know. We'll make sure you see Ireland again." She knew she wasn't imagining the disappointment in his voice. Could it be because he wanted her to stay with him?

A throat clearing behind them made him remove his hand and step away from her. She turned to see who had interrupted them. The man wasn't as tall as James was, but he was much fatter. His hair was powdered white and the ranks on his coat showed that he was the captain. He eyed James coolly and said, "Good work, Norrington. I will make sure that you are recognized for this deed. You are dismissed."

James bowed to him. "Thank you, Sir." He turned and smiled at her also bowing before walking away. She was angry with the captain for sending him away. She enjoyed being with him. She tried not to glare as the captain addressed her.

"I am Captain Hawthorne. I wanted to find you and make sure that you were being taken care of well. I apologize that we did not have any women's clothes. We weren't expecting to have any females on board."

"It is alright," she said with a too sweet smile, "I wear man's clothes anyway." The naval uniform they had given her to wear did not fit very well. The breeches were far too long and tight on her hips. The blouse was so long that she was surprised that it was not coming out of the bottom of the breeches, and it was cut too low. James was a nice and polite man, but even he snuck a peek down it. But anything else would have been much worse.

She thought Hawthorne's nose wrinkled in disgust, but she couldn't be sure. She hated the cold way he looked down his nose at her. "Ah, yes," he said after a moment, "I see. We will have you in Port Royal as soon as possible. Is there anything you will be needing?"

She made a mocking curtsy. "Not at all, Captain. Thank you for your hospitality."

He sniffed and walked away. She thought she heard him mutter, "Bloody Irish." She sniffed with satisfaction and turned back to study the waves.

That night James lay in his bed thinking of Isobel. For some reason he had this feeling that she was more than she seemed. He just couldn't shake it. It was almost like it was warning him against her. He didn't care. He usually didn't ignore his feelings, but he couldn't help it with her.

He sighed. Soon they would be in Port Royal, and she would get a ship for Ireland. He would never see her again. Part of him wanted him to distance himself from her so he wouldn't get hurt. The other part wanted him to spend as much time with her as he could, to be in her presence for as long as she would tolerate him. He decided to listen to the second half. Who knew what could happen between now and when she left. He prayed the _Seaspray _traveled slowly.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the reviews you all! They are much appreciated! 

**Algrene**- Thanks for the criticism. When I started this I thought I might not be getting a few of the facts right, but I wasn't sure. I'll remember to write sailor from now on, but about the other stuff I'm not sure how to correct it. I'm not very familiar with the Navy. Lol.

Chapter Three

James looked out over the bow of the boat and saw Port Royal getting bigger and bigger as the _Seaspray _got closer. He sighed. It had taken them four days to get here, and he had to admit they may have been the best four days of his life. Except when he was seeing to his tasks, Isobel hardly left his side. Now, she was down in the cabin that she slept in freshening up so that she would not look dreadful when they docked. At least that was what she said. He did not think she could ever look dreadful. Over the past four days, they had become very close. At times, Isobel seemed to want to withdraw. It seemed like she was trying to hide something from him, but at the same time wished she did not have to go on hiding it. He wished he had some clue as to what it was.

"You're quite besotted with her, aren't you?" Jonathan came to stand beside him, "It's pretty obvious you know, but fortunately for you I think she might be taken with you."

"I think," James said as he gave him a level look, "That you need to get a hobby."

Jonathan laughed. "I'm just stating what I see. You're a lucky man. She's beautiful."

James nodded a little sadly. "She is, but you're wrong. She doesn't feel anything for me but friendship." He sighed. "No matter what I wish."

Jonathan clapped a hand on his shoulder. "That's how you see it, mate. I'm a little more perceptive than you." He stopped talking and looked back over his shoulder. A wide grin spread across his face. "Ah, here's the lady now." He stepped away from James and bowed to Isobel as she approached them. "Good afternoon, Isobel," he said in his most charming tones, "I trust you are excited about arriving at Port Royal."

She smiled back at him. "Yes, quite. Thank you for inquiring." Then she turned her attention to James. With a wink Jonathan walked away. "Are you not even going to speak to me, James Norrington?" she said as she placed her hands on her hips and grinned at him.

He smiled back at her. "Of course I am," he said taking her hand and pulling her to stand beside him, "Good afternoon, Isobel." She smiled and her bright green eyes twinkled with happiness. To his surprise- and great pleasure- she did not let go of his hand. She wiggled in closer to him and rested her head on his chest. He wondered how he managed to breathe.

"What's Port Royal like?" she asked suddenly looking up at him.

He cleared his throat. "It's like any other city, I guess," he said, "I really don't have much to compare it to. I really haven't been to that many places."

She nodded and laid her head back on his chest. They just stood there like that for a while. James heard a sniff and looked down. Isobel clung to his shirt with one hand, and with the other she was wiping tears off her cheeks.

He tipped her chin up so he could look at her eyes. She squeezed them shut and tried to turn her face away. He kept a gentle, but firm hold on her chin keeping her face tipped up to his. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked feeling confused and concerned. Only moments ago, she had been fine. What could be the matter now?

She blinked back more tears that were welling up in her eyes. She shook her head. "It is nothing." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm just emotional that's all, but I'm fine now. Please let me go." She looked up into his eyes expectantly, but he kept her face in his hand. "Please?"

"I would," he said as he brushed away a stray tear that was rolling down her cheek, "But I don't believe you. Something else is wrong. Tell me."

Anger flashed across her eyes momentarily, but it disappeared as soon as it had come. She looked down and spoke softly, "It won't be long before I have to leave Port Royal, either back to Ireland or… somewhere else." She paused to draw a shuddering breath. "And I won't… I won't…" She cut off not able to finish her words.

He finished them for her. "I won't ever see you again," he said sadly looking toward the even closer Port Royal. She nodded slowly and buried her face back into his chest. He looked down at her glossy red ringlets as she cried into his shirt. He knew he had to let her know exactly how he felt.

He entwined his fingers in her hair and gently tilted her head back. Her startled eyes were wide. She started to speak, but he cut off her words with his lips. For an instant, she hammered her small fists on his chest and made sounds of frantic protest, but then she wrapped her arms around his neck and was not protesting at all. Her lips parted for his tongue easily, and she sighed against his mouth. Surprisingly to him, her tongue was tentative against his. For some reason, he had thought that she would have had more experience with men, but even though her kiss had his head swimming he knew it was not the kiss of an experienced woman. That made him like it even more. All too soon, he had to break the kiss so they both could catch their breath. To his delight, Isobel did not push away from him like he had expected her to. She leaned against him panting for breath, one hand still wrapped around his neck, the other rested on his heaving chest. After a few moments, she pushed back just enough to look up at him. "I wish you had not done that," she said breathlessly.

He drew his brows together in confusion. "You didn't seem to mind when I was doing it." He raised a questioning eyebrow.

Nails dug into the back of his neck almost painfully. Isobel gave him a dangerous look. "Please don't be sarcastic with me. Not now." Her voice sounded hurt.

He nodded. "Of course. I'm sorry. Please tell me."

She sighed. "I was going to say that you just made things much more complicated." She turned around and leaned against the railing. He suddenly felt cold. In minutes they would dock.

He came up close behind her and put one of his hands on the small of her back. "What's complicated about it?" he asked. "Isobel, I love-"

She whirled around and silenced him with a hand on his lips. "Please don't," she half moaned in a pleading tone, "Please don't say that." He still couldn't understand.

"Why can't I say it?" he demanded a little more harshly than he had intended, but he went on. "And even if you don't want me to say it that does not change how I feel. You are the one who's complicating things."

The look of hurt in her eyes made him wish that he could take those last words back. He did not want to hurt her. He just wanted to be with her. Her lips trembled and tears began to well up in her eyes again. "You don't know me," she said softly, "If you only knew… then you might understand why this could never be."

Her words cut at him like a knife. "What is there to know?" he asked just as softly. When she didn't answer he put both of his arms around her and pulled her closer. "It doesn't matter," he murmured against her hair, "I already know all I need to know. Nothing else matters. Nothing."

She lifted her head to say something, but before she could get a word out someone shouted orders. "All hands on deck. Prepare to dock." Reluctantly, James released Isobel and began to walk away, but before he was gone he turned back to her.

"Don't leave," he said with just a hint of pleading in his voice. He was half afraid that she would disappear before he had the chance to talk to her more. "Stay until I'm finished with my work, and then we'll talk. Please? Promise me."

She hesitated a moment and then nodded. "I will wait," she said, "But, James, what I said was true." He just looked at her and then turned to go work.

Isobel sat on a crate while she waited for James to finish his work on the boat. It shouldn't be long now. She didn't know if she should be happy or upset about that. Occasionally, she had to wipe a tear from her face, and a few passers-by stole glances at her out of the corners of their eyes. She didn't care. The only thing on her mind was James. He would hate her if he knew that she was a pirate. The British Navy was infamous among pirates for their hangings. They were certainly not known for their tolerance. The British Navy hated pirates. James was in the Navy. She was a pirate. It would never work.

But she felt so right in his arms. The way he kissed her made her feel so alive. She had never felt like this before. Her emotions were so torn. On one hand she wanted to disappear, to run away from him forever. On the other hand she just wanted him to wrap her up in his arms and kiss her until he could not kiss her anymore. But she knew that neither of the options would work. Both of them would end with broken hearts. Part of her wished that they had just let her die that day.

"I am finished." The voice of the very man she had been thinking of brought her to attention. She jerked her head up to look at him. His white shirt clung to him with sweat making his muscles stand out nicely. She stood and smoothed her clothes and hair. "Come on," he said, his voice betraying no emotion at all, "I will show you to a nice inn for you to stay at."

She nodded and began to follow him, sometimes having to trot to keep up with his fast pace. Finally she couldn't take it any longer. "Would you slow down!" she demanded irritably grabbing his arm, "I can barely keep you in sight much less keep up with you." His eyes looked at her darkly from beneath knitted eyebrows. His pace slowed, but not by much.

Finally they reached an inn. He told her that it was nice, not the kind of tavern full of drunks and gamblers and that it would be a comfortable place for her to stay. After paying the innkeeper instead of having someone show her to her room and leaving, he asked her if she wanted a drink and showed her to a table. For a moment they sat there looking at each other, her nervously sipping her wine, he staring at her over his mug of ale. Finally he broke the silence, "Do you feel nothing for me?"

She blinked in surprise at the question. "Of course…of course I feel something for you," she replied after a moment, "But like I said that is not the point. We both no what we feel for each other by now."

"That is all I needed to know," he replied looking into her eyes, "Nothing else matters."

She threw her head down on the table in exasperation. "Why do you keep saying that?" she moaned. After a moment she lifted up her head. James had his face resting in his hands. He didn't look up at her.

"I know," he said finally in a hoarse voice, "I know you are hiding something from me. Smith isn't an Irish name, Isobel."

Isobel winced. She had known that she had made a mistake about her last name, but she hadn't been thinking straight. "I can't tell you, James," she whispered. She knew she was about to start crying again. Why did the _bloody _man have to make her do that so much? She used to never cry. "If I told you," now she was crying and her voice was a whimper, "You would hate me. I couldn't bare that."

His head jerked up so fast that she gasped. She thought his eyes might be a little watery. I might have just been her imagination. He grasped her hands firmly. "I could never hate you," he whispered a passionately as she cried, "Don't ever say that. Nothing could make me hate you. Nothing you ever do could ever make me hate you."

She looked up into his eyes. She wanted to believe him. Oh, she wanted to believe him _so _badly, but a little voice in her mind told her that she couldn't. "But you don't know," she protested, "You can't know what you're saying. You-"

She cut off when he shook his head and brought her hands to his lips. "I know exactly what I'm saying, Isobel," he murmured as he kissed her fingertips, "You're not a bad person- I refuse to believe that- no matter what you've done. So what can it matter. You can stay here in Port Royal with me. We can be married soon. I don't have much, but we will live comfortably. I'll make sure that you're happy."

She began crying anew. Why did he have to make things harder on her? "I'm sure that you would," she cried, "I wish I could do that. Being with you would make me happier than I have been in a long while, maybe ever, but I can't. I have something I have to take care of."

The look of hurt in his eyes was almost more than she could bear. He looked away for a moment before looking back at her. Now, his eyes looked determined. "I will go with you, help you," he said, "Then will you marry me?"

Isobel shook her head. "No," she replied softly, "I mean, I would marry you, but no, you can't help me. It's impossible."

"Why is that impossible?"

"Oh, James," she groaned, "Why must you make this so hard? You have obligations with the navy. They wouldn't let you leave to help me."

James looked down, obviously unable to think of a good answer. Finally he said, "Just tell me. What do you have to do?"

"I can't," she began, but he cut her off angrily.

"You owe me that, Isobel," he grated through bared teeth, "I deserve some answers. You owe me answers."

She nodded. He was right; she did owe it to him. Even if it might cost her, her life in the end. Well, after she told him this, if her neck didn't end up in the hangman's noose, she would not have to turn down another marriage proposal from James. He would probably refuse to speak to her then. "Alright," she said, "Walk me to my room. It's too crowded down here."

They stood and began walking side by side up to where she would sleep for the night. James reached her door first. He leaned up against it with his arms crossed. "So?"

She took a deep breath. "Don't interrupt me while I'm telling you this," she said firmly, "Say whatever you want when I'm done, but not until then." He nodded and she continued. "When you found me, I was not just a poor helpless woman. The pirates targeted my ship because of some trouble I have caused them in the past." His eyes widened when she the words 'my ship' and he opened his mouth to say something, but at a look from her he closed it again. "When you asked me what I was doing out there, I was not on my way to Port Royal, I was looking for someone. Up until I was 13 years old, I lived with an aunt in Dublin, never knowing who my father was- my mother died during my birth, and after the doctors had taken care of me, he left me with my mother's sister and disappeared- but on my thirteenth birthday, he came back for me. My father's name was Patrick Bryant. Probably more none to you by Captain Bryant. One of the best pirates at sea. My real last name is Bryant. I lied for fear that you would make the connection. I have been a pirate since that day." He was shaking his head now, not looking at her, but she went on anyway. "About a year ago another pirate you have probably heard of, Captain Blackeye, attacked our ship to get to a large treasure my father had found. He had left me in Tortuga then, but one day a man from our crew came to me and told me the news. Everyone was dead. Blackeye had the treasure. Since then I have mad it my duty to hunt down Blackeye and avenge my father." She looked down. "If tomorrow morning I find a band of naval officers banging on my door with a warrant for my arrest, I won't be very angry with you. It is your duty." She looked up at him expectantly, but he had his back to her, facing the wall.

"My duty," he breathed finally, "I don't know what my duty is." His voice sounded disbelieving. "Why do you have to be a pirate?"

He still hadn't looked at her. She wrapped her arms around herself suddenly feeling cold. "I wish I wasn't," she replied sadly, "Not now. But I have to kill Blackeye or die trying. Do you see why we can never be, even if you do keep my secret?"

His hand formed a fist above where he was resting his head. He squeezed it so tight his knuckles went white. Finally his body relaxed and slowly, he turned back to her. "How can you leave if you don't have ship?" he asked quietly

She hesitated before answering. "I had planned to steal one and then gather a crew in Tortuga." She winced, waiting for him to call for some guards right then, but his reply surprised her probably more than anything she had heard in her life.

"I am going with you," he said firmly, "Don't try to tell me no. I am going. Don't try to leave without me. Just stay here for a few days and I will figure out how I can help you. Trust me." She gaped at him.

"But-!" she began, but he cut in.

"I said not to try to tell me no." He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her against him. He brought his lips down on hers before she could say anything. She clung to his chest until he broke the kiss and walked away without a word.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note**: I know Norrington seems very out of character, but that's kind of the point. His experiences with her change him. You'll have to find out what I mean later in the story. I just wanted to clarify that for you guys. I also want to say sorry for anybody reading this who doesn't like all the lovey-dovey kissing stuff, but I'm an extreme romantic and I love all of that. I put this in the romance category for a reason.

Chapter Four

James lay in his bed that night thinking about the day's events. How could she be a pirate? It was unbelievable. She was supposed to be his enemy, and yet he loved her more than anything in the world. Now he was going to help her steal a ship. If he ever came back to Port Royal he would be hanged. There was no way around it. But oddly, he didn't care. All he cared about was that he would get to be with Isobel. That was all that was important. He would be the happiest man alive as long as she was at his side. He recalled with pleasure the way she melted in his arms when he kissed her. Her lips were so soft and so sweet. He pushed the thoughts out of his mind. He was never going to get any sleep like this.

Early the next morning he went to Isobel's inn with some dresses that had belonged to his mother. He knew that she wouldn't want to wear dresses, but it was to avoid notice until they could leave. He went up to her room and knocked on the door. It opened a crack and she looked out.

"You're here early," she said as she opened the door all the way and turned to walk inside. She was wearing the same clothes that she had been wearing since she came aboard the ship. Maybe she would appreciate the change.

"I brought some things for you," he said closing the door behind him as he walked in. He decided to ignore the looks she was giving him. Obviously, she wasn't very happy with him right now. He pulled out the three dresses and laid them on her bed. One was pale yellow embroidered with light pink flowers. Another was dark red with silver embroidery on the collar and up the sleeves. The last, plain green that he was sure would match her eyes, was his favorite. "They were my mother's. I know you like to wear men's clothes, but it would be better to wear these to avoid notice while we are here."

"Oh, no, they are beautiful, James," she exclaimed picking up the green dress and holding it up to her, "Thank you." She got up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek softly. She turned away and went and looked out of the window. She sighed. "I suppose you haven't changed your mind about going with me."

"No," he said. He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She only resisted a moment before leaning back into his embrace. He kissed the top of her head softly. "I love you, Isobel."

She took his hand and laced her fingers through his. "I love you too," she said as she looked up at him with a sad smile. The look in her eyes pained him. She still did not think that it would work between them. He didn't understand why. After he helped her, he was not going to be able to go back to the Navy. He would be as good as a pirate himself.

"Why are you so sad?" he asked running the backs of his fingers across her cheek.

She closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest. Tears leaked out from beneath her long lashes. "I just don't want you to throw away your life on me," she said after a moment, "If you help me steal a ship, there's no way you can return to Port Royal without going straight to the hangman's noose."

He wiped away her tears. "Don't cry," he said soothingly, "I've thought about all of that, and I haven't changed my mind. I know the consequences of what I have decided to do." He turned her around to face him. "I'm not throwing away my life. I'm starting a new one, with you."

She pulled his face down to hers and kissed his lips. He returned the kiss and held her tightly against him. She pulled away and cleared her throat. "Now," she began breathlessly. She cleared her throat again. "You had better leave. You don't want people to talk about you leaving my room in the early hours of the morning. I'll get dressed and meet you in the common room. We can talk there."

He grinned at her not wanting people to start rumors about their romance when they were about to go steal a ship together, but he obeyed anyway. Down in the common room he sat at a table and waited for her to come down. Today while he was working at the docks, he would try to find out anything he could that might aid them. If they were in luck a ship would be leaving soon, and they could steal it after a crew had gotten it prepared for voyage. Then they would sail to Tortuga to hire a crew. He had heard of Tortuga, although he had never been there. He thought that that would be interesting.

He looked up, and what he saw took his breath away. Isobel was walking down the stairs wearing the green dress. He was right it did match her eyes. It made them sparkle like emeralds. The dress was a little long and a little tight across her bosom, but other than that it fit perfectly. When she saw him she grinned and quickened her steps. When she reached his table she curtsied. She tipped her chin up in the air and looked down her nose at him. "Does this make me look like a respectable lady," she asked.

He laughed at the way she was looking at him and pulled her down into the chair beside him. "Of course," he said with a grin. Then he suddenly became serious, "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

She blushed and looked away. "Thank you," she said with a shy grin. "Well, your mother was taller than me." She hiked up the hem of her skirt. "And thinner." Her hands went up to her abdomen and she let out a breath. "I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to fit into it."

He smiled and took her hands away. "It looks beautiful." As he spoke he couldn't stop his eyes from traveling up her body. She _was _truly gorgeous. A man couldn't help but notice. His eyes must have lingered a little too long on the rather low cut neck line because Isobel cleared her throat loudly.

"James Norrington!" she exclaimed, "I'll not have you gawking at me like I'm some tavern hussy! Keep your eyes on my face or I'll go change back into my other clothes no matter what you say." Despite her words, he was sure he saw a flash of a satisfied smile cross her face. He took her scolding light-heartedly.

"That's fine with me," he said as he brushed a strand of hair away from her eye, "Your face is just as pleasant to stare at as… any other part of you."

She rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "You know I really should slap you," she said playfully, "I would be quite justified. You are not a gentleman. No matter what anyone else thinks."

He leaned closer to her and whispered, "If I kissed you, you wouldn't be so mad at me."

Her cheeks flushed crimson, and she pushed him away. "You are intolerable," she said after a moment a little nervously. Her cheeks were still red. "Now what do you have to do today?"

He grinned at her being so flustered then answered, "I have to work at the docks." He paused and looked around. "I will listen and find out what is going on. You know, like if any ships are leaving and when."

She nodded. "That's good. What should I do?"

James shrugged his shoulders. He hadn't really thought about that. "I don't know. I suppose you can just go about the town. Get to know some of the people if you can. If they think you are a respectable young lady they will be less likely to expect that you stole a ship."

"Okay," she said giving him an unreadable look, "But who else will they expect when they wake up one morning and find that a ship is missing?"

"I have already thought that over," he said after a moment, "If something goes wrong and we are caught, I will say that it was all my idea and I kidnapped you. They will arrest me, and you will be free to go and start a new life back in Ireland."

Isobel stared at him with her mouth hanging open for an instant. Then her mouth clicked shut, and she shook her head. "No," she said grasping his hand tightly in hers, "If we are caught, I will not let you take the blame. I don't think they will believe that I kidnapped you, but I won't let them believe that I was innocent. Besides, I couldn't go back to Ireland and start a new life without you."

"But, Isobel," he protested, "I could die happily knowing that you were safe."

"Do you think that I could live happily knowing that you went to the hangman because of me?" she asked, grasping his hand so tightly that he thought her nails might bring blood. Her tone was pleading, and tears filled her eyes. "I couldn't bear to live."

He sighed. "Alright," he said loosening her hand and stroking her palm, "If we go down we go down together."

She nodded and brushed a few tears away. "Good." She looked around to see if anyone was watching them. The room was little more than empty. "Well," she sighed after a moment, "You had better go. I don't want you to get in trouble for being late." They both stood, and Isobel took his arm and put it around her waist as they walked out of the inn. When they got outside, the street was virtually empty so they didn't let go of each other as they stood outside of the doors and talked.

"When will I get to see you again?" she asked as she kissed him softly on the cheek.

"I don't know," he replied with a smile, "Do you want to see me again?"

She pushed him away from her and crossed her arms under her breast. "On second thought," she said, placing a finger to her lips as if in thought, "Maybe I don't. Well, bye." She turned and began to walk away. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back around and against him.

"Now wait just a minute," he began, but she cut him off when she put her arms around his neck and planted a passionate kiss on his lips.

"See," she said after they finished, "I can do that too. Now, answer my question."

He smiled circled her small waist with his arms. "I'll meet you back here when it gets dark," he said, "And we can talk about what I find out and…" He raised an eyebrow with a mischievous grin. She punched him in the ribs, and he grunted.

"I am _not _that kind of girl, James Norrington," she exclaimed then she winced and looked down at her hand. She continued as she flexed her fingers, "If you think that I'm going to…to crawl into bed with you." Her face reddened all the way to her ears. "Then you have another think coming!" She sniffed and nodded.

He could barely contain his laughter. "Well, I sure wouldn't try anything now," he said as he rubbed his stomach and pretended to be hurt, "I might get injured."

"You might," she agreed. He chuckled, and she glared at him.

"I'm sorry, Isobel," he said through his laughter, "I didn't want to offend you. I was only joking. Well, sort of." He didn't want to lie to her. He had had his hopes, but he was not going to pressure her into anything.

She stared at him blankly for a moment. Then she nodded. "Well, just so you know." Her look softened and she smiled a mischievous smile of her own. "Maybe," she said slowly, "When we get on the boat… who knows what might happen?" He raised his eyebrows, and she continued, "But not until I'm ready."

"Alright," he said smiling, "As much as I would like to stay here talking to you, I have to go work."

"Goodbye," she said, and he turned to walk away. "Wait!" She grabbed his arm and smiled up at him. "Just because I'm not ready for some things doesn't mean that I don't want a goodbye kiss." He gathered her up in his arms almost as the words were coming out of her mouth.

Isobel stood trying to catch her breath staring after James. If her mind had not been so clouded right then, the smug look on his face would have annoyed her. He had no right to be smug. It was not like no other man could make her knees turn to jelly with his kisses. She shook her head and began walking away. What was she to do all day while he was away? She didn't know anyone in Port Royal, and she didn't really want to get to know any of them. She wished that he had given her some task to see to, anything to keep her occupied. What was she thinking? It was not like he was giving the orders. She was the one in charge of this. She decided she would go to the smithy and see about getting some knives. She had lost all of hers when she was in the ocean. But as she was about to ask someone for directions, she had a thought. Wouldn't it seem odd for a woman to go into a smithy alone and ask to have some knives made? She growled. She was just going to have to bloody walk around all day!

Suddenly she heard someone yelling, "Izzy! Izzy!" She spun around in confusion. Only two people had ever called her Izzy, her father and…

"Jon!" Isobel exclaimed as she ran to the man who had been calling her name. "Oh, Jon, it's so wonderful to see you! What are you doing here?"

"I should ask the same of ye, lass," said the tall, lanky man as he pulled her into a big bear hug, "I feared the worst. No one in Tortuga had heard anything from you for a while, so I decided to come out lookin' myself. Me and my crew ran into some trouble with another group of pirates a few days ago. Me and a few others managed to kill some of them and then get away on a life boat. Port Royal was the closest place."

"Those pirates!" she exclaimed, "I'll bet that those are the same ones that got me!" She shook her head. "You're being careful, aren't you?" she asked with concern, "You know Port Royal's navy is infamous for catching us. And you know what they will do if they catch you."

"Aye, that I do, lass," he said sadly, nodding. Then his face brightened again and a wide grin spread across his face. "It's so good to see you, Izzy girl. Now, how did you get here?"

"Like I said," she began, "I was attacked by other pirates, too. All I remember is being thrown overboard, and then I was rescued." She paused. "By Port Royal's navy."

"It's you who do need to be careful it seems, lass," Jon replied shaking his head, "How did you keep them from finding out who you are?"

She grinned. "It seems," she said mischievously, "That Port Royal's navy men would rather look at a pretty woman than find out if she needs to be sent to the hangman." The comment made her think of James and she wondered what he was doing.

Jon roared with laughter. "Well, I sure am glad you're alright, Missy." He looked at her up and down with a look of surprise on his face. When he got back to her eyes he said, "Can it be that you are turning into a lady?"

"Not a chance," she retorted, "You're lucky I lost my knives."

He laughed again. "Yes. I haven't forgotten that scar you gave me when I was teaching you to use those. You were little more than a girl."

She laughed, delighted at having run into an old friend. "Here," she said taking his arm and leading him back to her inn, "Come with me to the inn I am staying at. I have quite a bit to tell you. And I wouldn't want it to be heard by the wrong ears."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"And that's what we're going to do," said Isobel. She looked out of her window. Between small talk, catching up, and his interruptions, it had taken her almost the whole day to explain what was going on. They were sitting in her room and it was almost dark. James would be here soon. That thought made her smile.

"Well," said Jon after a moment, "If that what ye be doing, lassie, my men and I are going with you. Two people cannot man a ship by themselves. There are 6 of us including me. That should help you out a bit."

She smiled even wider and laid a hand on her friend's shoulder. "It will," she said happily, "Thank you." This day had turned out to be somewhat productive. Their plan wasn't looking so hopeless.

Just at that moment a knock came on the door. Jon stood up and pulled out a long knife. "Who is it?" Isobel asked nervously. The door opened a crack and James poked his head in. Jon lunged at him with a knife, and James drew his short sword. "Put those weapons away, both of you!" Isobel exclaimed, pulling James the rest of the way through the door and pushing Jon away from him. "Fool men," she muttered shaking her head, "You think with the hair on your chests and not your brains." Neither of the men appeared to be abashed at the scolded. She gave an exasperated sigh and motioned for both of them to sit down at the room's small table. She took a seat beside James and turned to him. "James, this is a friend of mine," she said motioning to Jon, "His name is Jon Harfor. Do you remember when I told you that one man survived when my father's ship was attacked? This is him. He is going to help us." She turned to Jon. "And, Jon, this is the man I told you about. James Norrington, my rescuer." She smiled fondly at James and he held her hand under the table.

"Well," Jon said nodding, "If you saved our Izzy, then you're a friend of mine. I never had any children of my own, and she has always been like a daughter to me." He pulled out his knife again, and his eyes took on a dangerous gleam. "But if I find you ever hurt her or betray her…" He let his words trail off. Isobel rolled her eyes.

"I would as soon kill myself," James said seriously, "You'll find the same thing waiting for you if you ever hurt her."

"Oh for heaven's sake, men!" Isobel exclaimed, "Can you not at least pretend to be civil in front of me." They both continued to stare at each other. She decided a change of subject would work best. She turned James's face so he was looking at her. "Did you find out anything at the docks?"

He blinked in surprise. "Oh! Yes, I nearly forgot. The _Traveler _is setting sail Wednesday morning. That's in two days. If we can get there very early, before first light, the crewman will already have the ship prepared, and all we have to do is leave. Of course, there is always the matter of overtaking whatever guards and sailors are there."

Isobel bit her bottom lip in thought. "Yes, well, we do have 6 more men now. Maybe together we can overpower whoever is there. We will have to count on it. Jon, do all of your men have weapons?"

Jon nodded. "Aye, lass, we were able to salvage some of those from the ship before we had to get in the life boat."

"Do you have any extra?" she asked hopefully. Jon shook his head and she growled. Too much to hope for. "Then I have a task for you tonight."

Jon nodded good-naturedly. "Anything you say that's within my power."

"Good. I want you to go to the local blacksmith and get me some weapons. I need…" She trailed off counting how many knives she usually carried. She used to keep one up each of her sleeves, one tucked into each of her boots, and four on the inside of her coat. All were easy to access in times of need. "Eight knives." Jon whistled through his teeth, and James raised his eyebrows. She went on, ignoring them. "And a sword if you can get one. I don't have any money right now, but if you'll pay for it, I can pay it back as soon as I get the money."

"I think I have the money," he replied rising from his seat, "I'll go see about them right now. Goodnight, lass."

"I'll still need some proper clothes," she muttered as the door closed behind him.

"Are you sure you have to stop wearing the dresses?" James asked with a grin, "They… complement you very well."

Isobel raised one eyebrow. "You had better watch what you say when I get my knives," she told him, "I am afraid you will find out how skilled I am with them before long."

"I was only saying," he said defensively.

Isobel leaned over and kissed him slowly. She knew that she shouldn't be so forward with him, but she couldn't resist. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the taste of his mouth. After a moment, she slowly drew back and opened her eyes. James took her hands and kissed her finger tips.

"What was that for?" he murmured against her palms after a moment.

She smiled dreamily and made an effort to catch her breath. Being this close to him seemed to have that kind of effect on her. "Did you not like it?" she asked playfully after a moment.

Instead of answering he pulled her chair closer to him and kissed her passionately. After he released her lips, leaving her quite breathless, he pulled her from her chair and urged her onto his lap. She hesitated only a little before wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him quite thoroughly. What was a little fun going to hurt them anyway? They sat like that for a while, kissing and laughing and talking softly. James became rather bold in his caresses. One of his hands, which before had rested safely on her waist, was working its way up towards her breast. She felt her breathing begin to quicken. She was so lost in his touch that she almost failed to notice when her door banged open. Jon rushed into the room barely pausing enough to look embarrassed about what he might have walked in on if he had come a few moments later.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you to knock?" James growled as he pulled away from her. Despite the fact that she was very fond of Jon, at the moment Isobel wished she had had her knives handy.

"Isobel," that made her stand up. Something was wrong. Jon never called her by Isobel; it was always Izzy or lass. "There's trouble. We have to make a change of plans."

"What!" she demanded as she almost knocked over the table trying to run to him. She reached up and grabbed him by the collar. "Trouble? What kind of trouble? What do you mean 'make a change of plans'?"

He took her hands from his collar and said, "One question at a time, girl!" He paused and sighed heavily. James had walked to stand beside her. The only emotion he showed was his hand tightening and loosening on the hilt of his sword.

"Well, out with it!" he demanded after a moment.

"A few of my men," Jon said in a rush, "Well they were in a tavern having a drink. So were some navy sailors. They had a few drinks and there was a fight."

Isobel groaned. Why? Why now when everything was going according to plan?

Jon continued. "A few of the sailors were killed. Needless to say my men are being hunted. We cannot risk staying in Port Royal longer. We will all be found out. Tonight is the night."

James slammed his fist into the wall. "How could you let that happen?" he asked furiously. He sighed and fell silent for a moment. No one spoke. He appeared to be thinking. Finally he spoke quietly, "How quickly do you think we can make ready a ship?"

Jon's brows furrowed in thought. "I'm not sure," he said after a moment, "It depends on how fast we work, and how soon we get to the docks."

James nodded. Then he turned to her. "Are you sure you want to do this, Isobel?" he asked as he took her hands.

Isobel bit her bottom lip in anxiety and thought. She knew she wanted to avenge her father. To kill Blackeye had been her mission since that fateful night. But it was just so sudden. She knew what she had to do though. She gave James's hand a squeeze. "Yes," it surprised her that her voice was steady, "Are you sure that you still want to help me?"

The fact that he did not hesitate at all almost brought tears to her eyes. "Without a doubt," he said firmly, "I would die for you."

Jon seemed to be fed up with the romance. "Well," he growled irritably, "You may very well have to do that yet, lad. And if we don't go soon, you will certainly have to do that. So I would suggest we gather our things and make way." He paused and handed a sack he had been carrying to Isobel. To her surprised delight, in it were two regular sized knives, one long one that was not quite long enough to be called a sword, and some men's clothing complete with a belt to hold the long knife in. "Don't ask me where I got those," Jon said, holding up his hands and giving her an innocent look, "As far as you know, I got all of that in a totally honorable fashion." He knew that she had never liked to steal from civilians. She limited her thievery to treasure and things of that sort, but at that moment she didn't care. She had weapons and clothes to wear.

"Thank you, Jon," she said hugging him tightly. "Let me go change, and I will be ready to go."

"My men are waiting outside," he said with a nod, "I will go out with them. Be as quick as you can."

"I will wait with them so you can get ready in privacy," James said. He almost leaned in to kiss her, but he glared at Jon and pulled away. Instead he squeezed her hand and followed Jon out of the door.

James stood outside of the inn with the 6 pirates. Even though Isobel was a pirate and he loved her, he was not sure that he could get along with these fellows. He was not so sure that they could get along with him other. One large burly man with tangled gray hair and bad teeth kept giving him murderous looks as he eased his sword in and out of its scabbard. James kept a hand on the hilt of his own sword just in case.

The door opened and Isobel walked out. Even though she was in dirty men's clothes, she still took his breath away. Her red hair fell loose from a floppy black hat that was falling over one eye. The clothes fit better than the ones that she had been given on _Seaspray_. There was knife hanging from the belt around her slim waist.

"Okay," she said a little breathlessly, "Let's go." They began walking briskly toward the docks. They split up and stayed hidden in the shadows. James walked with Isobel the whole way. Across the street he could see Jon and two other men. He wasn't sure where the other three were. He noticed that Isobel still had the sack with her.

"Why do you still have that?" he whispered, gesturing to the sack.

She jumped at the sudden noise. She was so nervous. He thought he could hear her heart beat. She cleared her throat. "Oh," she whispered back, "I didn't want to leave your mother's dresses." She looked over and smiled at him. It was a shaky smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. "I figured that after this is all over, and I take you back to Ireland with me, I can still wear them."

He smiled widely in the darkness. He was glad she was planning on going back to Ireland and giving up being a pirate. All the better that she was planning on him being with her. If they weren't so rushed he would have pulled her into a corner and kissed her senseless. Instead he reached out and placed a hand on her back to comfort her as they walked. "It will be alright," he murmured softly.

She let out all of her breath in a rush. "I hope so," she whispered breathlessly.

After what seemed like forever, the docks came into view. James and Isobel gathered with the 6 other pirates in a secluded area of the street where they had a good view of the docks, but no one there could see them. Two sailors with muskets and swords were guarding the _Traveler_. James assumed they would still be taking it.

After they had devised a plan, James and Isobel waited while Jon and another member of his crew snuck up behind the two guards. Luckily they didn't make a sound as the two pirates slit their throats.

"If we're quiet," said one of the other men in a gruff voice, "We might have time to get out of here alive."

Isobel turned and glared at him. "Then I suggest," she growled in a low voice, "You be quiet, Finn." When the man nodded and she was satisfied, she turned around with a huff. She squinted in the direction of the boat. "Okay," she whispered excitedly, "Jon says that everything is clear. Come on."

Once they were all on the boat, they all began working as fast as they could to ready the ship. It was hard to be quiet, and James felt as if every sound they made was loud enough to wake the dead. The street behind them was clear every time he looked over his shoulder.

When they had the _Traveler _ready to set sail, James heard the sound of shouts and running. At least a dozen navy men were running towards the ship, yelling. One man in the front lifted his gun and aimed it. James whirled around and saw that Isobel was standing behind him. With a yell, he jumped and pulled her down to the deck just as he heard the gun go off.

"Stay down!" he commanded Isobel firmly. She appeared to want to get up anyway, but she stayed down. James crawled over to the side of the boat and peered up. As soon as his head popped up, a bullet whizzed by his ear. He took out his gun and began shooting. He saw two men go down. After what seemed like hours, but could not have been more than a few seconds, the ship began to move. James kept on shooting. One more man went down. Soon the men fell back. They wouldn't be able to stop them now, but he knew that they would certainly come after them. He felt a pang of sadness at having to kill his own men, but he knew that he would kill however many men he had to, to be with Isobel. He stood by the railing of the ship with Isobel watching the place where he had grown up disappear into the night.


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry it's been so long since my last update guys. I've been rather busy. My family is getting ready to move and everything is pretty hectic so if my updates are a little irregular for a while that's why. By the way, this chapter is going to get pretty graphic in the sexuality department. So I'm gonna definitely have to up the rating to M. Just warning everyone.

Chapter Six

"Land ho, Captain!" one of the men yelled to Isobel. She went to the bow and shading her eyes against the setting sun. Sure enough in the distance was Tortuga. They had been sailing for three days, and she had thought that they would make it there by tonight. She walked over to Jon who was steering the ship.

"Prepare to dock in Tortuga, Jon," she said, "It won't be too long, maybe just after sunset." He nodded, and she walked away. She wanted to find James. Since they had set off, they had not had many stolen passionate moments. It was hard to get a lot of time alone. She found him walking up from his cabin.

"We're close," she told him as she took his arm, "Now, Tortuga probably isn't anything like what you're used to. You'll probably want to stick close to me."

He grinned. "Aye, aye, Captain." He thought it was funny to use a pirate accent and refer to her as Captain instead of Isobel. She punched him in the arm playfully. He leaned down and kissed her softly. "Alright," he said, "I don't have a problem with staying close to you anyway."

She smiled and nuzzled her face against his arm. "I know," she murmured. She hoped that he would do well in Tortuga. She knew that it would probably be quite a shock to him.

In only a few hours, they docked in Tortuga. James was eager to find out what it was like. Immediately after they got off the ship, the smell of ale and strong whiskey caught his nose. The stench was overpowering. Men dueled in the streets, and passersby barely gave them a glance. Women were dressed more obscenely than he had ever seen in his life. He looked over at Isobel. She laughed softly. "You haven't seen the half of it yet."

His eyebrows climbed to the top of his head. "Have I not?" he replied somewhat absently trying to take in all of his surroundings. Then a rather pretty woman with a low cut red dress on that revealed much more of her bosom than was appropriate walked over toward him, her hips swaying tantalizingly.

"Hey there," she said grabbing him by his shirt, "Why don't you come with me, and I'll…"

She suddenly cut off, and her wide eyes regarded Isobel with… fear. Puzzled, James turned his attention to her. Isobel had freed her largest knife from its sheath at her belt and was brandishing it threateningly. Her teeth were bared, and she was looking daggers at the other woman. James was tempted to laugh, but he didn't want that knife to end up in his gut.

"_You'll _do nothing," Isobel growled, "Now leave before you regret walking over here." Unsurprisingly, the woman turned and almost ran in the other direction. After watching the woman scurry away with a hint of satisfaction on her face, she looked up at him. The look on her face was unmistakable. She _did _want to put that knife in him. Instead, though, she shoved it back into its sheath with a little more force than was necessary. After glaring at him a moment more, she sniffed and began to briskly walk away, not turning back to see if he would follow.

He rolled his eyes and went to catch up with her. "Hey, hey, hey," he said as he grabbed her arm and whirled her around to face him, "What was that for? I didn't invite the woman to come over."

"No," she grated, wrenching her arm from his grasp, "But you could have acted a little less delighted." He was about to reply but was cut off.

"Isobel!" came a man's voice from not far away, "Isobel, love!" A man- around Isobel's age, perhaps a year older- came strolling up to them. By the odd sway in his manner of walking and the empty rum bottle he held in his hand, he was definitely drunk. He had long black hair and a beard of the same color. "My dear, Isobel," he continued, "I haven't seen you in quite some time. Where…" Isobel slapped him hard across the face not waiting for him to finish.

After a moment, he shook his head. "I might have deserved that," he mumbled to James.

"You certainly did Jack Sparrow!" Isobel exclaimed in outraged tones, "Now kindly move out of our way." With an awkward bow the man stepped aside. (**A/N: **Thought it would be funny to have a little Jack cameo.)

"Who was that?" James asked when they were clear of the man. She turned her face up to him and gave him an unreadable look.

"His name is Jack Sparrow," she said after a moment, "I met him last time I was in Tortuga, and he was even less of a gentleman than you are." She smiled sweetly at him. "Which reminds me, you've yet to explain yourself for what you did back there." Her smile vanished, and she crossed her arms under her breasts. "Well?"

"I didn't do anything," he protested.

"I suppose looking that woman up and down right there in front of me was nothing." She stomped her foot on the ground with a growl. "You're infuriating!" If she hadn't been so angry, he might have laughed. Instead, he put his hands to his head and took a deep breath. _He _was infuriating?

"I'm sorry," he breathed, "I didn't mean to hurt you." He smiled down at her lovingly and pulled her into his arms. She did not try to pull herself out of his embrace, but she did not return it either. She just stood there, arms still crossed, looking up at him. He took one of his hands from around her waist and used it to put her hands on his chest. Then he pulled her against him. "Isobel, Isobel," he murmured as he planted small kisses on her cheeks and forehead, "You know you're the only woman I love." He didn't give her time to reply. He brought his lips down on hers passionately.

A few minutes later, he withdrew his lips, and Isobel rested her head on his chest with a sigh. "I hate it when you do that," she said with a small smile, "It makes me very angry."

He chuckled. "I know it does." He ran his hands over her hair, loving the way her silky tresses felt in his fingers. "I meant what I said."

She lifted her head and smiled widely. "I know," she said, "I love you too." She looked around and seemed to realize that they were standing in the middle of the street. She laughed softly and pulled out of his arms. "But we have to go. I need to find as many willing crewmen as I can before we have to meet Jon and the men back at the docks. Come on." She took his hand and began walking toward a tavern. "I know some men," she continued, "That I think might be here who may help us."

They walked into the tavern and the smell of alcohol almost knocked James down. Sailors drank, and he had had his fair share of rum, but this was surprising. Even Isobel wrinkled her nose in disgust. With a shake of her head, she led him over to a table where three rough looking men sat drinking and talking boisterously. "These are our men," she mumbled with a sigh. They looked older than him, probably in their forties. When Isobel reached their table, one of the men stood up.

"Well, well, men," he said in a slow drawling voice slurred with drink, "This is one of the prettier ladies I've seen here tonight. Come here, missy." Suddenly, one of Isobel's knives was in her hand, and she slammed it point down into the table between two of the man's fingers. The two other men who had been laughing loudly fell silent. James's eyebrows wanted to climb off the top of his head.

"I'm surprised you don't recognize me, Sam," she said, "I've met you once before and both of you too, Will and Tom. Also, I've been told that I bear a strong resemblance to my father, Captain Bryant." She pulled her knife free from where it stuck into the table, and with a grand flourish she made it disappear up her sleeve.

Recognition dawned slowly in the three men's eyes, and the one who had spoken- Sam?- looked abashed. "Isobel?" he said, "Isobel Bryant? Yes, I remember you. You are that fiery little slip of a girl that I met five years ago sailing with Captain Bryant and then again last year here in Tortuga." He dropped his gaze for a moment and then continued, "I'm sorry about your father. He was a good man. God rest his soul." He shook his head and took a swig of his rum. "Well have a seat. Your man there too."

Isobel pulled up a chair and motioned for James to do the same. "My father has a great deal to do with what I have come to talk to you three about," she said sadly. James placed a comforting hand on her leg as she continued. "This is James, by the way. He is going to help me, and I need your help too." The men eyed James skeptically, but he kept his eyes on Isobel. "Will you help me?"

Another one of the men spoke up this time. James thought she had addressed him as Tom. "Well, that depends, Isobel," he said, "What is it, and what's in it for us?" The other two men nodded their agreement.

Isobel sighed. "It will be dangerous. I am going after my father's murderer, Captain Blackeye. I go whether I have your help or not. As for what's in it for you, all of my crew will get an equal share of the treasure that he stole from my father, at least what's left of it, and whatever else Captain Blackeye and his crew have looted. The treasure means little to me. All I want is to see him dead."

The three men were silent for a moment, all looking down into their mugs. Finally, Will spoke up. "How do you know where to find him?"

Isobel grinned. "Not to long ago, I was chasing him, and I managed to find a place where I think he might be keeping his loot. Before I had a chance to go after him, my ship was attacked, and I was left for dead at sea." She turned to James with a fond smile. "That is when you saved me."

Sam shook his head. "I don't know, Isobel," he said slowly, "I want to help you, but…"

"But, what?" James cut in angrily, "She needs your help." He stood up and placed his hand on his sword hilt. "And I will do anything to see that she gets it." The three men had stood up and were reaching for their weapons, but Isobel stopped them from drawing them.

"There's no need for that, men," she said as she gently pried James fingers from the hilt of his sword. "Sit back down. You won't be forced into anything." She began trying to pull James back down into his chair, but he remained standing glaring at the men. "James? Please." Slowly, he let her pull him down. The other three men sat down too, but still glared at him. She squeezed James's hand in thanks and let it go. "Now," she continued after taking a deep breath, "Like I said you won't be forced into anything, but please, I need your help."

The men were silent for a long while. Finally, Tom looked up and said, "So we're sure to get a share in this treasure?" Isobel nodded. "Then I'm in."

Will and Sam nodded and said that they would help too. "When do we leave?" Sam asked.

"In the morning," Isobel replied with a small smile of relief. James could tell that she had been worried. "Early, so you might want to sleep on the ship. I'll take you to it whenever you're ready. I have six more men out looking for crewmembers. Will you ask around and see who else may help?" The men said that they would, and Isobel led James out of the tavern.

They went to a few more taverns that night, and by the time they needed to get back to the ship, they had got the help of six other men. Sam, Will, and Tom had gathered eight. With the 14 other men, they went back to the ship. Jon, his men, and a number of others were waiting for them.

"How many?" Isobel asked as Jon walked over to her.

"Eighteen all together, lass," he replied as he nodded greetings to the men who had come with them, "You?"

"Fourteen," she answered, giving him a pat on the shoulder, "That makes 32 all together. Thank you so much. I couldn't have done it without you."

Isobel stood by Jon as he was steering. She alternated from looking at her compass and squinting off at the horizon. The sun was setting; in a few minutes it would be dark. They had been sailing for four days, and she was eager to find Blackeye and be done with it. After she killed him, she could take James back to Ireland. He told her that he wanted to marry her first thing, and then start a family. It made her smile to think of that. She loved him, and there was nothing she would rather do than marry him. They would have a nice little house on the coast and a few children. It would be perfect.

With a start, she realized that she was daydreaming and turned to Jon. "It shouldn't be too long now," she said. She couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice. "Maybe three days." As she walked away from Jon, she couldn't keep from worrying. What if Blackeye wasn't at his lair? That would be her luck. Or worse, what if he overpowered her and her men? What if he killed her? What if he killed James? She shook her head angrily as she leaned over the railing to stare out into the deep blue water. No, she would not let that happen. He had killed her father; he would not take James from her. She slammed her fist down to punctuate the thought. He would _not_.

"You better be careful. You don't want to break the ship." James walked up beside her with a chuckle. Then he became serious. "What's wrong?" He put his arm around her waist and pulled her against him.

"I was just thinking," she replied, leaning into him. His presence comforted her. It was as if in his embrace nothing bad could happen to them. She knew it was silly to think that, but she didn't care.

"Worrying?" he asked as he kissed the top of her head.

She sighed. "Of course," she mumbled, "What else?" She didn't know how to keep from worrying. It was how she dealt with things.

"Don't worry," he said soothingly, "I'll take care of you. I promise." He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it repeatedly. She sighed again. It wasn't herself she was worried about. He tilted her head up and looked into her eyes. His brow was furrowed in puzzlement. "I will," he assured her.

"I know." She forced a smile and patted his chest. "Thank you. I feel better." He raised an eyebrow, and she knew that he didn't believe her, but he nodded anyway.

"How long?"

"Maybe three days." She shrugged. "I'm not sure." She couldn't suppress another small sigh. It was not long enough. She wanted more time with him.

He sighed too. "Four days." He shook his head. Isobel knew he was probably thinking the same things she was, but he took a deep breath and his face took on a determined look. "Well, we'll be ready." She smiled up at him, truly happy.

"You are one of a kind, James," she said, kissing his cheek, "Thank you for doing this for me. You'll never know how much I love you." He smiled down at her then kissed her lips softly.

As he pulled away, it really hit her that in three days all of this might be over. She had to make the best of the next days. With that thought she took his lips fiercely. He returned her kiss with just as much passion.

"What was that for?" he asked breathlessly when they were done.

"I… I don't know," she lied tracing her fingers along his cheeks, "I just know I love you. Kiss me again."

They stood there like that, kissing, for a while. The sun had disappeared below the horizon, and the moon was shining brightly above them, reflecting off the water. It set a very romantic mood. Suddenly he pulled away from her. She reached out to him in protest, but he held her at arms length.

"If you don't want this to go any further," he breathed huskily, "We have to stop now." She thought about what he was saying, about what was about to happen, but it didn't change her mind.

"I love you," she answered simply. She could feel her hands shaking now, and her lips trembled as she placed a kiss on his throat. "I don't want to stop."

He replied by kissing her again. She clung to him as if this was the last kiss they would ever share. Without even looking to see if anyone was watching, James lifted her up in his arms and carried her toward his room. She giggled in pleasure against his mouth and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. She didn't care who saw them. Right then, the only thing that was real to Isobel was James. He groaned when he had to set her down to open the door of his cabin. He fumbled with door knob so awkwardly that she could not keep from laughing softly. He turned back to her and grinned then finally got the door open. She pulled him into the room as quickly as she could.

When he closed the door behind them, it was pitch black dark in the small cabin. James wasn't touching her, and she couldn't see him. She reached out for him in the darkness. "James?"

Suddenly a light appeared in the room. James had lit a candle. "So I can see you," he said with a small smile as he set the candle down on a small table. She met him half way across the room, and for a few moments they were locked in a passionate embrace. He kissed her on her lips and up and down her throat as his hands roved over her body tenderly.

To her pleasure and surprise, he gathered her up into his arms. He walked over to his bed and sat down with her on his lap. Then he kissed her. Their tongues entwining in the passionate dance she had come to long for. After a few moments, she broke the kiss to catch her breath. She grabbed his hand which had been resting on her hip and began slowly pulling it up. He knew what she wanted, and he reached the rest of the way up and caressed her breast. She whimpered and wrapped both of her arms tightly around his neck. He laid her down on the bed gently, and positioned himself to where he was leaning over her with one leg beside her thigh and the other between her legs. She pulled his face down and kissed him slowly. Then she began kissing up to his ear.

"Make love to me," she whispered passionately. He was happy to comply.

He rose up and for a moment just looked at her spread out in front of him. Her silky red ringlets were spread out over his pillow. Her breast was heaving with her panting breaths. He reached down and slowly, tantalizingly began unbuttoning her shirt. Now little sounds were escaping her mouth with every breath. Once he had the shirt totally unbuttoned, he lifted her up and pulled it off of her shoulders. She almost made an effort to cover herself shyly but quickly decided against it. He bent his head and kissed the smooth skin between her breasts. She sighed and tangled her fingers in his hair. He continued to kiss her breasts tenderly. Isobel's breathing was ragged. She had had no idea that he would be able to make her feel this way. He reached for the buttons of her breeches, but she batted his hands away.

"I believe," she panted as she slowly pulled out the tails of his shirt, "That you, my love, are over dressed." She slowly unbuttoned his shirt, kissing his chest softly as she did. She pulled it off all the way and eyed him hungrily. "That's much better," she murmured, and she ran her hands slowly over the muscles of his chest and torso. She explored him, kissing and licking and touching. He did have a divine body. With a mixture of fear and excitement, she reached down and stroked the bulge in his breeches.

"Lay down," he told her huskily. She reluctantly removed her hands and leaned back, pulling him down on top of her. She was in heaven. His lips found her mouth again, and she thought she could kiss him forever, but he had another target. He reached down and began to unbutton her breeches. He slowly slid them down her legs. She gasped when he caressed her there. She moaned loudly and lifted her hips to meet his touch better. He quickened the pace of his fingers, bringing her nearer to release, but when she was on the brink he withdrew his hand.

He stood slowly and reached for his buttons, but she pushed away his hands and shook her head. He stood by the bed in front of where she was sitting. She stroked up his thighs causing his breath to quicken. Slowly and shyly she reached for his buttons. Her hands were shaking, and he had to help her pull his breeches down. She wrapped her arms around his waist and began planting little kisses on his lower abdomen and thighs. Then she took his hands and began to lean back on the bed pulling him with her. He kneeled between her legs and placed her head on the pillow, making sure she was comfortable. He brought his lips down on hers and kissed her passionately, possessively. As he kissed her, he thrust. She cried out against his mouth at the pain of her virginity being taken and dug her fingernails into his shoulders. He whispered broken apologies, but she silenced him with a kiss. He moved his hips slowly at first so as not to hurt her more, but when her hips began to rise to meet his with each thrust, he quickened his pace. Aside from the first initial pain, this was the most pleasurable experience she had ever had. Soon she knew that she was not far from her climax. She began contracting more quickly around him. "Oh!" she cried out brokenly, "Oh James!" And then they went over the edge together. She buried her face in James's shoulder as she raked her nails down his back.

They lay there afterwards panting for breath in each others arms. She nuzzled against him and closed her eyes with a happy sigh. "Perfect," she murmured into his chest. He kissed her hair and lovingly stroked her side. Then he whispered that he loved her and always would, and she knew that she never wanted to leave his side.

Isobel stayed in his room the whole night. They alternated between making love and sleeping in each others arms. The next morning as she stood on the deck looking out at the water a feeling of sadness came over her. She could not suppress the feeling that something bad was going to happen.


	7. Chapter 7

I know it's been a while since I updated. I have been busy with my move and going back to school, among other things, and then I was going to wait and see if I got any more reviews. I know I offended some people with the sex scene in my last chapter. I would like to apologize for offending anybody. But I personally don't think that there is anything wrong with two people in love having sex. It was just a way for me to have them express their love. And I warned everyone at the beginning of the chapter, so…. Well like I said I'm sorry, and I hope it wasn't too detailed for this site. I didn't think it was, but I don't read every story here with sex in it, so I don't really know the limits. I hope that's not way the reviews have suddenly stopped. Anyways, the next chapter will be the last I think. Either that or the next. But I went and saw Dead Man's Chest a few weeks ago, and it gave me a few ideas for a sequel. I might write it if I get some more reviews. So please review. I really appreciate it even if it's criticism.

Chapter Seven

Today was the day. It had actually taken five days instead of three, but this evening they would attack at Blackeye's lair. James was worried for Isobel. Not only because of the risk they were both about to take, but she had been acting strange the past few days. She had been extremely sad, and he didn't know why. Last night, after they made love, she had burst into tears, crying harder than he had ever seen her cry. When he asked her what was wrong, she told him that it was only because she was so happy. He had decided not to press and just held her in his arms, but he knew that she was not telling him the truth. Something was the matter. He needed to know. He couldn't let her fight while she was so distracted.

Now he watched her from where he was standing on the deck. She was talking with Jon, arguing was probably a better word. She was gesturing frantically while he stood, arms crossed, shaking his head. They had been arguing on and off for the past two days. Jon did not want Isobel to confront Blackeye personally, by herself. He said it was too dangerous. James definitely agreed. But Isobel would not be swayed. Despite his love and worry for her, James understood. This man had killed her father. It was only right for her to be able to take her revenge. James sighed. _What if she doesn't get her revenge? _nagged a little voice in the back of his head, _What if he kills her first? _James shook his head to dispel the thoughts. That little voice had been there for a few days now, always asking the inevitable question: What if Isobel is killed? He shook his head. He could not think about that now. Besides he would be there to guard her back and fight off the other pirates, as would the other men aboard _Traveler_. Everything would be fine.

Then he realized that she was walking over to him. Her face was downcast, and she had her arms wrapped around herself as if cold. This was her frequent stance of late, another reason he knew something was amiss. In all their time together she had been sure of herself, strong and determined looking, always walking with her head held high. She looked up at him, and he barely suppressed a wince. She was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, nothing could take that away from her, in his opinion at least. But her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, from crying no doubt, and her face was even more pale than usual. She also looked exhausted, which was no surprise to him. He knew she had not been sleeping. She had shared his cabin these past five nights, and he could only recall her sleeping a little. At first he thought it was because she could not sleep with someone else in the bed, but when he suggested that she go back to her room to rest she protested vehemently, stating that she would not leave him. He had not gotten much sleep either, but he was not worried about himself.

"You need to go get some rest," he said before she opened her mouth to speak, "I won't have you fighting with almost no sleep. You're exhausted. Don't try to deny it."

Her eyes narrowed a moment, and she opened her mouth angrily, but she snapped it shut and her eyes widened back to their normal size. That was something else that was odd. She had stopped arguing with him almost entirely. She would look as if she was about to give him a tongue-lashing, and then she would just force herself to calm. Once, he even heard her mutter under her breath, "I will _not _be angry with you." He wondered what that was about- she had no trouble with getting angry at anyone else- but decided to leave it alone. "I am tired," she admitted quietly after a moment's silence, "But there are other things more important than rest right now. I have to prepare. I have to be ready."

He shook his head. He was not going to back down from this. Maybe he would even have the satisfaction of seeing her get angry at him again. "Part of being ready is having enough sleep," he told her a little more calmly than he was feeling, "You have hardly slept at all lately. You will never be able to fight on what little sleep you've had. Go to your room. Lie down. Take a nap. I will take care of anything you ask me to." He crossed his arms and gave her his most firm look.

"James!" she growled in a low voice. Then she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing her eyes as she did. "I am tired," she said again, "Maybe you're right. I will go lie down for a little while." She pointed her finger up at him. "Only a little while, mind!" She paused to look at the sky. "We have about three hours until sunset. I will sleep for one. That should give me ample time to make preparations. I will be refreshed then." James wasn't entirely satisfied. He would have preferred her rest a while longer, but an hour's sleep was better than none at all.

"Agreed," he said as he put his hand on the small of Isobel's back and pulled her against him. He bent and kissed her. He had meant for it to be a small kiss, to bid her goodbye, but she deepened it. It certainly didn't bother him at all, and he savored her touch. When she pulled away, she smiled up at him somewhat sadly. He bent and kissed her forehead softly. "Sleep well."

She hugged him fiercely for a moment. "I love you," she whispered, then turned and walked away, not even giving him time to reply.

"I love you, Isobel," he said quietly to no one. That was another strange thing about her actions lately. She became deathly serious in an instant, repeating over and over again that she loved him or clinging to him like it was the last time she would ever touch him. He did not mind the extra contact with her; on the contrary he was always happy when he was touching her. It was just strange.

"Yer makin' that woman lose her head," growled Jon as he walked up to him. It was no secret to the other men on the ship that Isobel and James were sharing a bed, but no one made anything of it except for Jon. James tried to understand- the man thought of her as a daughter- but it was still rather irritating, not to mention embarrassing at times. Two nights ago he had barged into the cabin looking for Isobel without so much as a knock. It had been an awkward and mortifying experience for all three of them. He furiously objected to the relationship.

"She's just tired," James replied defensively, "With a little rest she'll be fine." God, he hoped so.

Jon shook his head. "You know I don't like you much," he grumbled, "But Isobel seems to think you're something. Even though I don't know what she sees, I'll put up with it." He rolled his eyes as if their relationship was just some foolishness. He should know by now that it was not. Then his voice took on a menacing tone, and he pulled on James's collar, bringing his face close to his own. "But if you do anything that will put her in danger tonight, I will kill you."

With a little disgust, James pried Jon's fingers off of his collar. "How could you even think I would do something like that?" he hissed angrily. Then he took a deep breath. "I love her, man! I _love _her. I would never- never!- do anything at all to harm her! She is my life."

Jon studied him for a few moments. He sighed after a moment and stepped back. "I guess you do care for her, lad." James barely suppressed an exasperated sigh. _Really_? "But don't forget what I said." With that he turned on his heel and walked away.

James shook his head and stared disbelievingly after him. He still seemed to doubt James's feelings for Isobel. How could he make the old man understand? He pushed thoughts of Jon out of his head and went to go see to some things. He needed to be prepared for the task that lay ahead of them tonight.

With a yawn, Isobel stretched and sat up in the bed. Instead of going to her cabin, she had gone to James's. She wasn't exactly sure why. Maybe it was because she had become so used to sleeping there. She liked the way the sheets smelled like him. It had soothed her and helped her to fall asleep faster. She had actually slept considerably well. Now, she looked around to see what had woken her. James stood a few feet away putting on his sword belt. He looked over at her and smiled.

"I'm sorry," he said as he walked to the bed, "I didn't mean to wake you."

She shook her head dismissively. "It's fine," she replied, smiling up at him affectionately, "I needed to get up anyway." Then she suddenly became aware that her clothes lay piled up at the foot of the bed. Even though he had seen all there was to see, she still felt a little self conscious. She pulled the sheet up over her breasts nervously. He sensed her thoughts and grinned. "How long have I been asleep," she asked quickly, trying to rid herself of the awkward moment.

"A little over an hour," he replied still grinning at her, "You could sleep a little longer if you like. You still have plenty of time."

"No," she said after a moment's thought, suddenly becoming serious, "I don't think I want to sleep right now." She let the sheet drop and pulled James onto the bed with her.

Almost an hour later, Isobel and James dressed and emerged from the cabin. Isobel was glad that they got to be together again before she killed Blackeye. No matter what she did, that bad feeling would not go away. It was dark now. She moved from James's side and went to stand at the bow. She could see Blackeye's ship now docked in front of a cave- his lair. Her hand opened and closed on the hilt of her large belt knife. That was her only movement. She stared with unblinking eyes at the small cave opening. Revenge was just through there, and then she could start over. Before they had come out of his cabin, she and James had talked about what their life would be like when they went to Ireland. Even now as she thought about it, her lips formed a small smile. They would be married first thing, and then they would start a family. Her hand left her belt knife and went to rest on her stomach. Maybe they already had it started. It was too early to tell, but if she was with child, she would be exceedingly happy. She wanted very much to have James's children.

"Are you ready to do this?" James came to stand beside her. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her to his side.

Isobel took a deep breath. "Yes," she answered firmly, "I have to do this, James. I can never be at peace while this man lives. After tonight I will be free to go to Ireland with you and start a new life."

He sighed and nodded. "Well, I hadn't expected you to turn back now."

"No, not when we are right here." She took another deep breath. "Are Jon and the rest of the crew ready?" James nodded. "Then we need to go. Blackeye will have sentries posted so we'll have to be quiet. Remember that, not a sound! If Blackeye is alerted of our presence, then all could be lost. We have to…" James cut her off with a finger on her lips.

"I know, Isobel," he said soothingly, "Everyone knows. We have been over this. Everyone knows what to do. Don't worry." She squeezed his hand affectionately and pulled out of his grasp. She wished she didn't have to leave the comfort of his embrace, but it was now or never.

A half an hour later Isobel, James, and her crew were wading in the shallow waters at the mouth of the cave. James, Jon, and Isobel led the way with half of the crew following behind. The other half was waiting on the ship in case they needed to get away quickly. Isobel held her knife out in front of her, James carried his sword in one hand and his pistol in the other, and Jon carried two short swords. A few yards ahead, Isobel could just make out the figure of a man in the half light of the cave. One of Blackeye's sentries. She pushed ahead of James and Jon, planning to come upon the man with his back turned and slit his throat. He would die silently and would not draw any attention. But the man turned toward them almost as soon as the thought crossed her mind. He opened his mouth to call out, but her knife was already out of her hand. It hit his chest with a sickening thud, and he fell to the ground with a soft grunt. She stood for a moment, silent and still, waiting to see if anyone else appeared. The only sounds she heard were the beating of her heart and the soft breathing of James and Jon. When she was sure that another man was not going to pop out from around a corner, she motioned for the men to follow and waded briskly to where the dead man lay. She pulled her knife out of the man's chest and then peered around the corner. What she saw took her breath away. Gold and jewels and treasures of all kind made a path way all the way to a whole heap of valuables. Her father's finding- plus many others- was here. This was Blackeye's lair. As James and Jon came to stand beside her, Isobel had another thought. Where was Blackeye?

"Hello, Miss Bryant. We have been waiting for you." And suddenly Blackeye and his men began appearing out of the shadows.

At the sound of that raspy voice, James stepped in front of Isobel, his sword held out in front of him. He pointed it straight at the tall dark man standing directly in front of them. How had he known they would come? No matter what happened, he would keep her safe. The big man's tangled black beard shook as he laughed boisterously. James took him for Blackeye.

"Is this what you have brought to defeat me?" he roared, "Really, Isobel, I would have expected better from you."

James took a step forward, but Isobel grabbed his arm. Not taking her eyes off Blackeye, she said to him quietly, "Don't, James. This is my fight and mine alone. I have to do this on my own." He nodded but didn't step back. Whatever she said, he was not going to stand by and watch if something happened to her.

Still not taking her eyes off Blackeye, Isobel bent and cleaned her knife on the dead man's shirt. "How did you know I was coming, Blackeye?" she asked calmly.

Blackeye chuckled. "I can't reveal my sources, now can I?" he said. He took a step forward, toward Isobel. James's hand tightened on his sword hilt. "It doesn't have to bee like this," he continued with a smile, "You've grown into a lovely woman, Isobel. We could be… friends." His smile became all too suggestive for James with that last word. He stepped forward again with a growl, but Isobel wordlessly stuck her arm out.

"This is my fight, James," she said softly still not taking her eyes from Blackeye. Then in a louder voice, "You killed my father, Blackeye. You killed him, and you stole what was rightfully his. I am her for revenge."

**Remember to review! **


	8. Note

Author's Note

I don't know why people aren't reviewing. I really wish someone would review. Reviews really inspire me to write more. It lets me know that people are actually reading and liking my story. So please, please review this if you are reading it. I am going to discontinue the story until I get at least one review.


	9. Chapter 8

Okay finally drum roll the final chapter! I'm sorry it's taken so long. This last delay you can blame on my computer and not me. Microsoft Word screwed up, and I just got a new program this past week. This chapter might not be as long as some of the others because it's mostly going to deal with fighting, and I'm not very good at writing long and detailed fighting scenes. I'll try my best though.

Chapter Eight

"So be it." Blackeye's words were like a signal. His men immediately rushed at them, weapons drawn. James threw himself in front of Isobel in an instant, impaling a pirate with his sword. Adrenaline was running through Isobel's veins. All she felt was a need for vengeance, a need to see Blackeye die at the point of her knife. She would satisfy that need. Right now. She began moving away from James and her other men, her eyes intent on Blackeye. She met his gaze and brandished her knife with a snarl. He smirked at her. Suddenly he was blocked from her view as a huge man stepped in front of her. His sword was drawn, and he began to lower it towards her head. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Isobel dodged the blade, slid under the man, and thrust her knife up into his gut. She glared into his quickly glazing eyes as he drew his last breath. Then he toppled on top of her. She was crushed beneath his weight. Try as she might, she couldn't push the corpse off her. He was too heavy. _This is great, _she thought with a growl as she tried to heave the man off her again, _I won't be able to kill Blackeye because I'll be stuck under this beast forever! _She tried again to get free and was surprised as the man lifted off her quite easily. James stared down at her as he pushed the man aside. He grabbed her arms and jerked her up.

"What are you doing?" he demanded angrily. His chest was heaving, and blood matted his hair to the left side of his face. Isobel prayed to God that it was not his own. The sword in his hand was bloody. "You ran off like that, and then I couldn't find you."

Isobel didn't reply, for at that moment, she saw a man a few feet behind them raise his knife. He was aiming right for James's back. Isobel knew that would be a killing blow. James's life depended on whether she was a faster hand than his man. More quickly than she ever had in her life, she threw her knife forcefully at the man. It stuck right between his eyes. Blood spouted from the wound and poured down his face. James whirled around and looked at the man. Then he turned back to her. "Stop scolding me, James Norrington," she told him heatedly, "And pay attention!"

At the beginning of the fight, her need to kill Blackeye had blocked out every other emotion. But now after coming so close to seeing James die, she couldn't seem to stop worrying about him. Her life would be over if she lost him. Before that fateful day when he rescued her from drowning at sea, revenge had been the most important thing in Isobel's life. Now that had all changed. It wouldn't matter if she killed Blackeye if she lost James in the process. He was the only thing she had.

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The battle raged on for what seemed like an eternity. James tried to stay close to Isobel, but sometimes it was hard to keep up with her. She tried to get to Blackeye countless times, but he moved faster than she. Every time she managed to get close to him, he was off attacking someone else. Unfortunately, he and his men were good fighters. Their own men were dropping quickly. So far this wasn't going too well. James wished Isobel could get to Blackeye so they could get out of there, and this would be over.

"Isobel!" He called, "Behind you!" A man with a sword was at her back, coming on her unawares. Luckily, she turned just in time to slice his throat with her knife. James sighed with relief. It worried him to let her out of his sight. She was so intent on revenge, she wasn't aware of half the goings-on around her. She was distracted, and you didn't fight well if you were distracted.

For a while they fought, James following behind Isobel closely. She was making her way to Blackeye. James could tell she would get to him this time. Her green eyes shone with fiery rage and a thirst for blood. She cut down anyone in her path. James watched as she approached Blackeye. The tall man smirked at her arrogantly, and then they were locked in battle. Isobel had two of her knives out, the one long one and the other regular sized one. She used them both to fend off Blackeye's sword. The sight of her fighting him frightened James. She was a very small woman, and Blackeye was one of the biggest men he had seen. James could see her arms shake every time Blackeye's sword crashed into her knives. She wouldn't last long if he didn't help her. He began moving forward, but just before he reached her a man stepped in front of him, blocking his way and his view. He snarled at the man and made a move to strike him with his sword. It would have been simpler to use his pistol, but he had run out of bullets long ago. He went to stab the man in his gut, but the man anticipated his move and blocked him with his own sword. They fought for what seemed like forever, and it was obvious that James's opponent was no inexperienced fighter. Every time James made a move the other man blocked it. If James thrust up his sword trying to skewer the man's middle, he parried. If James tried to bring his sword down on the man's head, he parried. Nothing was working no matter how hard James tried until fate dealt him a sweet blow. In a moment of inattention his opponent left his side open, and James took advantage. His sword went through the man until it poked out his other side. As the man died, James put his boot on the man's shoulder and kicked him off his sword. He stood there, chest heaving with exhaustion, and scanned the area for Isobel. When he saw her the blood drained from his face and he dropped his sword; his shaking hands could hold it up no longer.

Isobel was bent over Blackeye's body. One of her knives was sticking out of his chest, the other in his arm. But it wasn't Blackeye James was staring at. Blackeye's sword was buried deep in Isobel's middle. Blood poured over her pale white hands as she grasped the blade, trying to pull it out of her body. The battle around them had stopped, but James hardly noticed as he rushed to Isobel's side. She toppled to the ground right as he reached her.

"Oh, James," she panted as he kneeled over her, "Oh, James, I killed him. I killed him." Her hands still fumbled awkwardly with the sword trying to pull it out. The serene smile she wore on her face while thinking of her revenge crumpled into anguish as her hands fell away uselessly from the sword. "James," she pleaded, "Please take it out of me. It hurts."

James felt tears flooding his eyes. He pulled the long blade out of her as gently as he could. "You're going to be alright," he said, trying to assure her and himself. "Everything will be fine." His voice was hoarse and thick with tears. "I'll just get you back to the ship…." He put his arms around her to lift her, but he stilled when she groaned in pain. He could tell it would hurt her more to be moved. He eased her body back down, and began to shakily smooth her hair. Her beautiful red hair. "Oh, Isobel," he murmured as he felt a tear roll down his cheek, "Isobel, Isobel. I love you, Isobel." He drew a shaking breath. "Please don't leave me."

She reached up and wiped away the tear. She forced a smile. James could tell that she was in a lot of pain. "I'll always be with you," she whispered as she caressed his cheek, "When the sun shines on you, know that it is me smiling down at you. When the wind rustles your hair, it is me whispering how much I love you." She trailed her hand down to his chest. To his heart. "I will always be here. In your heart. In your soul. Go on with your life. Think of me from time to time and remember what we shared. Remember our love."

With her last word he broke down into tears, unable to bear the thought of losing Isobel, the love of his life. He clutched her small cold hand and begged her not to leave him. A few tears rolled down her face, but she seemed not to have the energy to sob. After a moment, she took his face in her hands. "Kiss me, please," she told him, "I want to feel your lips on mine once more. Please, James." He brought his lips down on hers gently. She trembled slightly against his mouth. He savored the feeling of her. He knew it would be the last time he would be able to. He wished that all this was a nightmare, that he would wake up in soft warm bed, and he would look to his side and Isobel would be lying there, sleeping peacefully. But he knew that it wasn't a nightmare, that he wouldn't wake up beside Isobel. He knew that the love of his life was dying. They would never have their house in Ireland. He would never get to see her grow with their beautiful children.

When he pulled away, she continued to speak. "Take me to the water's edge and let me die there. Give my body to the sea." He opened his mouth to protest, to say that she wouldn't die, that he wouldn't let her. But she forestalled him. "That is what I want, James. Please do this for me."

He gently lifted her into his arms. It tore at his heart to see her pale face draw tight with pain, but when he hesitated and began to lay her back down, she shook her head and forced a small smile. When he reached their destination, instead of laying her down, he sat and cradled her small body in his lap. "Why?" he moaned into her hair as he rocked her back and forth, "Why? Why? Why?"

"Please do not be bitter, my love," she said. He could tell that it was an effort for her to speak. "Not many people have what we had. I would not trade my time with you for anything, even if it was a short time. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone. I will always love you. If you know nothing else, know that."

"You are the only woman I have ever loved, Isobel," he whispered to her brokenly, "The happiest day of my life was when I met you. I wouldn't trade our time together for anything either. I love you, and I'll love you until the day that I die and my soul comes to join yours." She smiled weakly, drew a quiet breath, and then she was gone.

James clutched her limp body to his chest as he sobbed, stricken with grief. He would never feel her kiss again, never see her smile, never hear her laugh, never feel her arms around him. It was over. Everything was over. How could this happen? She didn't deserve to die. She deserved to grow old and live a long happy life. He silently cursed God for doing this to him. Why? Why!

After a while, he wiped the tears from his cheeks and released Isobel's body. He placed a kiss on her cold forehead and let her slide into the water. "Goodbye, Isobel," he whispered. Numbly, he began to walk back to where he knew the other men would be.

Jon rushed to him as soon as he caught sight of him. "Where's Isobel? All of Blackeye's men are dead. We lost quite a few of ours, but not all. We looked for you, but…. Where's Isobel?"

James stared at him for a moment before quietly replying, "She's gone." He didn't wait for the other man to reply. He pivoted on his heel a swiftly walked away, back toward the ship. He hated pirates. Not Isobel. Isobel was different. She wasn't like a pirate at heart. It was the real pirates. Pirates like these men. Who caused her death. He hated them all. Hated them with passion. A pirate killed Isobel. Murdered his love. As he thought his grief was mingled with rage. He could hardly think with all the pain and anger that he felt. He suddenly remembered her words telling him not to be bitter, but he pushed them aside. How could he not be bitter? How could he be alright when his life was over?

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The next day James stood on the deck of the ship, looking out at the ocean. He had stood in that very spot with Isobel just the day before. He shook his head. If he thought too much about her, he knew he would begin to cry again. He had spent most of the night sobbing. Sleep refused to come to him. He couldn't sleep when he thought about Isobel dead.

In the brief part of the night when he wasn't overcome with grief over her, he had figured out what he had to do. He was going back to Port Royal to start over. When questioned about why he was missing, he would tell him that he and Isobel were forced onto the ship with Jon and the other pirates. He would tell them that she had been killed when they were attacked by other pirates. He would devote the rest of his life to the navy, ridding the sea of accursed pirates like Blackeye. In his twisted line of thinking, he still reasoned that Isobel was not like other pirates, that there were no other pirates like her, that the rest were like Blackeye and his men. He hated them all.

He heard footsteps behind him, and turned to see Jon approaching. In his dark mood, he couldn't remember that Isobel had loved this man as a father. James only saw him as another pirate. He glared at him. Before Jon could speak, James said, "Take me back to Tortuga. I can get passage back to Port Royal from there." Jon's eyes widened in surprise, but James still gave him no time to speak. "I suggest you leave as soon as you drop me off there, for I am sure the Navy will have ships out looking for you after I get back." Without waiting for him to reply, James turned back to the ocean.

"What!" Jon demanded behind him, "You mean to tell me that after all this, you're going back to the Navy! What…."

James ignored Jon's voice, reduced it until it was only a small buzzing in the back of his mind. He would avenge Isobel's death. He would work relentlessly in the Navy until he purged the world of men like the man who murdered her.

The end! Finally! How did you all like it? Please review and tell me if I should write a sequel. If I did, it would take place after Dead Man's Chest. It would basically be centered on Norrington, but it would also include the other character's (Jack, Will, Elizabeth, Davy Jones, Bootstrap Bill, Barbossa, etc.) And Isobel would also be back as part of Davy Jones's crew. I already have a first chapter started, and I think I have a few good ideas. Thanks for reading my story! 


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